Jack's rugby team had a hog roast last Sunday, much to the delight of my husband. What a Father's Day treat - binging on pork and drinking cider! To be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to it. I wouldn't know many people there (the downside to missing most of Jack's rugby games due to horrible weather and two little sisters who really wouldn't have enjoyed standing in the pouring rain for 2 1/2 hours) and I was the designated driver.
As it happened, it turned out to be a wonderful day. Not only was there an abundance of succulent roasted pork (with the crunchiest crackling), but I really enjoyed chatting with the parents. The kids had a blast, running around in open fields and going down the bouncy slide one hundred times. The sun finally came out after weeks of rain and misery.
Isla started getting bored so I took her away from the chaos on a little walk around the grounds. She spied some sheep and immediately wanted to go over to say hello. We sat together on a stile, watching the sheep munching on the grass. "Look at the little sheep!" she said. "What he called?" We stayed there for ages gazing across the fields, swatting away flies, counting sheep, enjoying the quiet.
We left the sheep to explore the grounds. We came across a Celtic knotwork garden, tucked away behind an iron gate and brick walls. We admired the carefully manicured shrubs and returned to get Mia to share our discovery.
A kind woman from the church explained what the different plants were and the significance of the pomegranate mosaic. It was the personal symbol of Queen Katherine, AKA Catherine of Aragon, who lived here for one year.
We returned to the rugby celebrations and spent the rest of the afternoon lazing on the grass. It was chilled and fantastic. Exactly what was needed, and a very good reminder of what is actually important.
The copious amount of pork also contributed to my happiness, obviously.